


The Lannister Family

by TeamGwenee



Series: Halloween at Casterly Rock [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Crack, F/M, Halloween, I don't even know..., OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-26 22:50:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12567956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: When Brienne meets her boyfriend's family for the first time, she has to deal with eyeballs for dinner, a murderous twin sister, a butler with bits falling off from his body, and dressing for dinner.And she hates dressing for dinner.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My other attempt at a halloween fic. Whereas the other one is meant to be scary, this one is intended to be humorous.

Brienne had been having nightmares about the visit ever since Jaime first invited her. He had to plead, beg and cajole her into attending, but in the end she gave in. She supposed that there was really no way of avoiding it. She and Jaime had been together for over a year, and she had moved into his luxurious and frankly over-sized penthouse apartment a month before. With their relationship turning serious, the ominous meet the family meeting marched ever closer.

Brienne had met Tyrion a couple of times, and liked him well enough. Unfortunately, he shared the venomous wit of his brother and apparently, all Lannisters. Brienne could not deny that the thought of being subjected to the sarcasm and biting humour of four Lannisters all weekend had her all over in goosebumps. Jaime knew this, and had been lightly teasing her all week.

“Brienne!” Jaime yelled from the window, “The hearse has arrived,”

Brienne rolled her eyes, grabbed her ruck sack and handbag, and made her way to the lift. Eyeing up Jaime's three suitcases and 19th century portable wardrobe, Brienne resigned herself to several trips.

The car ride was long, but extremely comfortable. Brienne relished the chance to stretch out her legs instead of having them crammed up, and Jaime relished the chance to play footsie. Thus they were kept well entertained throughout their journey to Casterly Rock.

The castle itself was beautiful in a terrible, deadly way. Gargoyles snarled down on Brienne as they pair hauled Jaime's luggage to the front double doors. They stood at the bottom of the stairs, unable to carry them up. The steps were polished black marble to match the black doors, and there was a golden lion head knocker. Strong as she was, Brienne couldn't tell if even she would be able to open the doors.

Just as she was pondering this, the door swung open and a round, bald man stood. He smiled obsequiously and bowed.

“Welcome, welcome,” he said, “Master Jaime, a pleasure as always,”

“Hello Varys,” Jaime said, “Our butler,” he explained to Brienne.

“And this must be the delightful Miss Tarth,” Varys beamed, “How wonderful to meet you at last. We've been waiting centuries for Master Jaime to bring a girl home,”

“Well, girls like Brienne are one in a millennium,” Jaime said fondly, giving Brienne's arm a squeeze, “She was well worth the wait,”

“I'm sure she is,” Varys agreed, “Well come inside, both of you. I don't doubt the journey was tiring. You both look dead on your feet. I shall have Gregor take your luggage,”

From the shadows behind Varys, an extremely large and tall man emerged. He had red, bloodshot eyes that seemed strangely unfocussed and waxy skin. With him he carried a sickly sweet odour. Brienne watched in amazement as Gregor took all of their luggage into his large, beefy hands, and hauled it over his head.

“Will you be alright carrying that?” she asked in consternation.

“Of course he will,” Varys assured her, “Gregor!” he said sternly, “Be sure you don't drop anything,”

Gregor merely grunted and continued back to the house. He climbed up the steps without difficulty.

Then his head fell off.

It bounced off the steps and rolled across the gravel, where it rested at an perturbed Brienne's feet. Meanwhile, the rest of Gregor had disappeared inside with their luggage.

Varys tutted. “I did tell him not to drop anything,”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Are you OK?” Jaime asked as he and Brienne followed Varys down the twisting galleries and ancient halls of Casterly Rock. Everywhere she looked, there were suits of armour and portraits in golden frames of Jaime's ancestors. Their eyes seemed to follow Brienne as she made her ways past. This would have explained the disdainful look on the portraits' faces. Brienne knew she should have had her hair cut last week.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Brienne hesitated, “I'm just surprised to find out your family hire a man who regularly has pieces of his body falling off,” she admitted.

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Why shouldn't we? We Lannisters are equal opportunity employers. We don't hold with ableism,”

Brienne blushed at having inadvertently caused offence. “Of course not,” she said quickly, “What about you, are you OK?”

Jaime had been silent ever since entering. He smiled reassuringly. “I am, it's just... you know. Old childhood home. Lots of memories, lots of ghosts, and not all are that friendly,”

They had to hurry to keep up with Varys, who glided ahead of them. He walked with such lightness of foot that Brienne couldn't tell if he ever touched the ground. And he kept disappearing through doors. Brienne strained her ears to hear what he was saying.

“Lord Tywin sends his apologies, Miss Tarth, for not being here to greet you in person. Unfortunately it's too early in the day for him. Naturally he shall join you for dinner,” Varys rattled, “The gong shall ring at nine, which will give you plenty of time to settle in and get changed for dinner. Formal wear is required here, Miss Tarth. Starters are eyeballs and asparagus wrapped in prosciutto (Master Jaime has assured us you're not a vegetarian). This will be followed by a soup course of Black Mamba venom garnished with wolf spiders...”

But Brienne had stopped dead in her tracks, pale as a ghost.

“Jaime!” she hissed in horror, “You didn't tell me your family dressed for dinner!”

 


	3. Chapter 3

They were unpacking. Or else, Brienne was unpacking and Jaime was reclining on the bed. He watched his girlfriend with some amusement as she tugged, banged and kicked at the door of the wardrobe, which was stubbornly refusing to budge. Brienne glared at Jaime when he chortled in amusement.

“You could help,” Brienne said pointedly, gesturing towards Jaime's mounds of luggage.

“I could...” Jaime drawled, “Or I could kiss you,”

He got up, placed his hands on Brienne's waist and pressed his lips to hers. Brienne lingered in his hold momentarily, allowing Jaime to probe the inside of her mouth with his tongue. It was only when he slipped his hand up her shirt did she break away.

“I'd rather you unpacked,” she said sternly, before returning her attentions to the troublesome wardrobe.

Jaime shrugged, waltzing back to the bed ad flopping down onto the mattress. “I'll just get out what I need when I need it,”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “It will be a wonder if you are able to find anything, you packed so much. Even if I did manage to get this wardrobe open, I still don't think we'd be able to fit all your things inside,”

Even as she said it, Brienne knew this was too great of an exaggeration. The solid oak wardrobe was roughly the same size as Brienne's bedroom had been in her old flat in Flea Bottom.

“I like to be prepared,” Jaime said defensively, “It's good to have everything just in case, as we have already established,”

Brienne glared at him. “It's your fault that I didn't pack anything for dinner. You should have told me. I can't go down to meet your father and sister and brother dressed in a shirt and jeans, while you lot are all in evening things,”

“Brienne, I told you not to worry,” Jaime said reassuringly.

“Not to worry?” Brienne repeated incredulously, “How can I not worry? Evening clothes don't just spring out of nowhere!”

At this, the wardrobe door swung open. Inside, the most divine evening dress hung in the middle. It was deep blue, long and even from a distance it seemed a perfect fit. There must have been a breeze, for the watery silk rippled and danced, beckoning Brienne towards it. It seemed to whisper, calling her name. She cast a hesitant look at Jaime, who grinned and nodded. She reached out tentatively, only to find the wardrobe was deeper than expected. In order to get to the dress, she had to lean in.

Suddenly, the doors slam shut. Brienne shrieked and jumped back, barely escaping by the skin of her teeth. Her clothes, on the other hand, were caught and no matter how she pulled, would not come free.

Jaime was laughing furiously on the bed, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I'm so glad that this is amusing for you,” Brienne snapped sarcastically, “But I could use a hand,”

Gulping for air, Jaime smiled and nodded. “Right, of course, of course,”

Jaime's right hand jumped down, scuttled across the floor and climbed Brienne's legs like a spider. With its help, Brienne was free, but still pissed off.

“You don't have to laugh,” Brienne muttered in an accusatory voice. She stomped over to the bed and flopped down in defeat. Jaime reached out his left hand to rub her shoulder. His right hand hopped up to work on the other one.

“You're right, I shouldn't have,” Jaime agreed, smiling as Brienne's tense muscles relaxed, “I should have warned you about that wardrobe,”

“Have you had a run in with it before?” Brienne asked curiously.

Jaime grimaced ruefully, “How do you think I lost the hand?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dinner had not yet proved itself to be the ordeal Brienne had feared. Jaime's father, Tywin, regarded her coolly and Tyrion, his demonic little brother, teased and mocked incessantly. Cersei, Jaime's heart stoppingly beautiful twin, glared daggers at Brienne and venom dripped from every word addressed to her. But as of yet, nothing catastrophic had happened.

The soup was good, as were the eyeballs. The steak was admittedly a little rare for Brienne's taste, but that was how the Lannisters seemed to like it. They also seemed to have a higher alcohol tolerance than her. Whereas Brienne switched to water after her first glass, the Lannister glugged down glass after glass of red wine as though it was their life's blood.

“So, Brienne,” Tywin began, pausing momentarily to savour the bloody bite of steak he had just swallowed, “Do your rooms please you?”

Brienne gulped nervously at her water, startled at being addressed. Cersei scoffed and Jaime patted her leg sympathetically.

“Oh yes,” Brienne managed to choke out, “They're very pleasant,”

Actually, the full length mirror had screamed insults at her all through dressing, and he wardrobe had made several more attempts at Brienne's life before she was able to get the dress out. Even so, Brienne thought it rude to complain. She desperately wanted to make a good impression on Jaime's dad, and she knew that whining about petty problems wouldn't look good.

“And your view?” Tywin continued, digging his knife once more into his steak and watching as the blood oozed round the steel.

“They're lovely,” Brienne assured him truthfully, “The wood looks beautiful in the full moon,”

“I hope the neighbours aren't making too much noise, they can get rather rowdy during the full moon,” Tywin said.

“It's very peaceful and quiet. All I've heard are wolf howls,” Brienne assured him.

“Bloody Starks,” Jaime muttered.

Cersei turned to Brienne with a sickly sweet smile, the perfection of her face only somewhat marred by the dribble of blood trailing from her mouth.

“If you're having trouble sleeping,” Cersei told her, “My friend; Doctor Qyburn, has some medicine that can help. One drop will have you in a dead slumber,”

Tyrion raised a sceptical eyebrow, “I thought Doctor Qyburn usually treats his patients conscious,”

Cersei shrugged elegantly and returned to her steak, “Well,” she pointed out, “He has to get them into the operating theatre _somehow_ ,”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Dessert was delicious. A divine trifle with a somewhat unique tasting jelly. After dinner, the family adjourned to the sitting room to drink and chat by the fire. Under the severed heads of boars, wolves, stags and conquered enemies, the Lannisters sipped even more wine and nibbled on cheese and biscuits.

Brienne abstained and simply sat on the sofa, amusing herself by wondering what type of animal the leather came from. She had already drunk too much wine and there was something off putting by the glassy eyes of the severed heads. Maybe it was the way they bulged out of their sockets. Or perhaps the manner in which they, along with the eyes of the several portraits gracing the room, would swivel to follow her every movement.

Also, the biscuits were crawling with maggots which was just to filling for Brienne. She was already feeling as stuffed as the corpse of Cersei's ex-husband that stood in the hallway. She could even feels her dress tightening.

Tightening quite a lot, in fact.

Brienne looked down to see the blue silk of her gown twisting around her body like a cobra, squeezing the life out of her. She gave out a gasp of pain ans the silk cut into her skin as her ribs were crushed. She glanced desperately at Jaime, who was deep in conversation with Tywin at the other end of the room. She clawed at the sofa to drag herself up and maker her way to Jaime.

By this point, the circulation to her legs had been cut off and she fell across the carpet.

“Jai-me!” she choked quietly. She went unheard by her boyfriend. Cersei, on the other hand, looked up and smiled. In her talon like claws, she twisted a strip of blue silk.

“How do you like your dress, Brienne?” she purred, “I picked it out myself, Jaime told me you didn't have anything suitable to wear,”

On hearing this, Jaime looked up to see his girlfriend desperately writhing on the floor. He made to help her up whilst scolding Cersei.

“Cersei, stop suffocating my girlfriend,” he said in mild annoyance, tugging at the silk.

“What's the matter Jaime?” Cersei asked innocently, “You said you like her in blue. You said it went well with her eyes,”

“But giving her blue skin to match is taking it too far,” Tywin snapped.

“Especially as she has gone past the blue stage and is quite purple,” Tyrion.

Cersei sighed. “Fine,” she muttered grudgingly.

Cersei graciously relinquished the silk and Brienne felt air rushing back into her lungs. Jaime reached out and rubbed Brienne's back soothingly as she panted, tears in her eyes. Cersei glared, holding out her glass to be refilled by Jaime's severed hand.

“You still haven't told me if you like your dress,” Cersei hissed, “Nor have you said thank you. I hope you know how awfully rude that is,”

 


	6. Chapter 6

For all that it had been a long day, Brienne could not go back to sleep. This was not because of the howling of the wolves, the lack of Doctor Qyburn's sleeping medicine or the blood curdling screams coming down the hall-way from Tywin's room. It was in fact due to the immense pressure pressing down on Brienne's over-filled bladder.

She kissed Jaime and quietly murmured into his ear where she was going, smiling as his arm tightened round her waist. She detached herself and swung her legs off the bed, careful to keep them a good distance away so that when the clawed hand lashed out it would not swipe her ankles.

Brienne relieved herself in the bathroom and went to wash her hands. As she did, something hot and sticky dripped onto her forehead. She touched her head and stared at the mirror.

“Is this blood?” she asked her reflection.

Her reflection replying the affirmative, Brienne walked back to the bedroom and gently awoke the sleeping lump on their bed.

“Jaime?” she whispered, “Jaime?”

“Hmm?” Jaime replied groggily, eyes blinking open, “Did the toilet try to swallow you again?”

“No, but I think there's a leak,” Brienne answered, gesturing to the blood on her forehead. Jaime reached out and dabbed at the sticky red liquid.

“For the love of the Seven,” he groaned, throwing aside the bed clothes and storming from the room. Brienne followed Jaime as he marched down the hallway and up the stairs to the bathroom above theirs. Cersei's bathroom.

“Cersei!” he yelled, banging on the door, “Let me in Cersei!”

The door swung open and Brienne cried out in horror. The antique claw foot bath was filled to the brim with blood. There, in the middle sat Cersei, desperately bathing herself in the blood and muttering frantically under her breath. She was completely and utterly naked. As she twisted and writhed, blood was splashed and spilt over the edge of the white porcelain.

Horrified at having caught her boyfriend's sister in the nude, Brienne tried to stutter her apologises and leave, only to be cut off by Jaime.

“For fucks sake Cersei!” he snapped, “Washing in the blood of virgins again? You know what havoc that causes to the plumbing. And father will be furious when he finds out you have broken into his stores,”

“I must! I must!” Cersei declared shrilly, washing herself under the armpits, “It will keep me young and beautiful,” she turned to her mirror with wild, crazed eyes, “I am the most beautiful! I am the most beautiful!”

“You are the most beautiful!” her reflection shrieked back at her in a high, piercing voice, “You are the most beautiful!”

Brienne wished her reflection was that complimentary. That evening her mirror only spoke to her to tell her brush her teeth properly.

Jaime sighed as he watched his sister bathe herself in the blood of virgins whilst pleading for her reflection to call her beautiful. He shook his head, closed the door and left her to it.

“Come on,” he said to Brienne, “Let's leave Cersei alone. I suspect she's been on the absinthe again,”

 


	7. Chapter 7

The next day had been uneventful. No mention was made of Cersei's blood bath, and the looked surprisingly refreshed for having been up all night. Brienne had meant to mention as such when Cersei invited her to a walk on the battlements, but had been distracted when Cersei summoned the gargoyles to swoop down on her. Thankfully one of the suits of armour had been charged with following Cersei around in case she tried anything, and together they fought off the ugly stone demons.

Apart from that, the day was restful. Exactly what Brienne needed after a long drive and a restless night. And so she attended dinner on Jaime's arm with far more confidence. Especially as the dress she was wearing had been picked out for her by Jaime, and thus was unlikely to attempt to suffocate her. For this she was extremely grateful. Finding dresses that would fit and suit her was hard enough. Most of them were too short, too tight or unflattering in colour. The last thing she needed was throw murderous into the bargain as well.

Again, dinner was delicious, and Brienne enjoyed it far more now that Tywin's interrogation was out of the way. Brienne found his manner somewhat less severe.

There was a tense moment during the soup course. Tywin had glared down at his soup as Gregor's ear fell into it with a plop and a splash.

“Varys, this is unacceptable,” he announced to the hovering butler. Tywin pushed the soup away, ear bobbing merrily on the surface, “It's tepid,”

He then ate the ear.

Brienne would have found the meal pleasant, if Jaime was not shifting uneasily by her side. Brienne glanced round the room to see if anything in the room could be causing her boyfriend discomfort. Nothing seemed particularly different from yesterday. But Brienne knew she wasn't imagining Jaime's twitchy state, the portraits on the walls had noticed two and were watching him with fixed eyes.

“Jaime?” Brienne asked softly, “Is everything OK?”

Jaime paused, spoon halfway to mouth, before setting it back in the bowl.

“Well, actually,” he murmured in reply, before scraping the chair back and standing to face the room, “Everyone, I have an announcement to make,”

All eyes swivelled towards Jaime, real, painted and glass.

“Brienne,” he said, taking her hand, “You are the most wonderful creature I have ever met. You cannot begin to imagine how grateful I am to have found you. I have had my heart ripped from my chest so many times-”

“I said I was sorry!” Cersei snapped.

“-That I began to believe I would never meet the being I would spend my life with. I am so grateful I met you”

“We all are,” Tyrion interrupted, “His last girlfriend was a parasite. She sucked him dry and devoured him whole,”

“Again, I said I was sorry,” grumbled Cersei.

“I once thought,” Jaime raised his voice to be heard, “That I was doomed to spend eternity alone. But then you stumbled into my life, and I've never been the same since. And so,” Jaime slid to the ground before revealing a beautiful antique ring, “Will you marry me?”

Brienne's eyes widened. Jaime-her Jaime- was asking her to marry him. She stared down at the ring, tears rapidly filling her eyes to her horror. Unable to speak without blubbing, she nodded.

Jaime beamed and swooped down on her, pulling her into his embrace. Brienne smiled at the ring.

“It's beautiful,” she said.

“It's a fifteenth century ruby and sapphire ring, originally made to grace the hand of a fair princess,” Tywin informed her.

“Shit,” Jaime muttered, “I forgot to take it off the hand,” He tugged at the ring, only for the hand to suddenly clench into a fist. It was only with Brienne prising the bony fingers apart that they were able to get it off. “It wanted to stay on,” Jaime remarked.

“I remember the princess being rather reluctant to part with it in life,” Tywin reminisced.

“Hence the hand,” Tyrion added.

Jaime slid the ring onto Brienne's finger with a flourish while Tywin and Tyrion watched in satisfaction.

“I hope you're happy for us,” he said.

“Ecstatic, aren't we Cersei,” Tyrion said, turning to his sister who was no screaming. Her eyeballs had rolled back into her skull so that they only saw the whites, and her hair streamed out behind her like snakes. Hissing and snapping. The tureen of soup before her rippled and swirled like a whirlpool.

“See. She's crying out with ecstasy,” Tyrion smiled.

“Oh do be quiet Cersei,” Tywin snapped, “You can have the rest of the rings on the hand,”

Cersei instantly brightened up, and set about chasing the hand as it scuttled around the room.

“It was kind of your father to give you the ring,” Brienne told Jaime as she swayed in his arms, “I was worried he wouldn't like me,”

“Nonsense,” Jaime murmured.

“No, really,” Brienne sighed, “Most families would object to have a troll in the family,”

“Well Wench, I don't know if you've noticed this, but my family isn't like most families,”

 


End file.
